


Sexcapades

by melissaeverdeen13



Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-27 07:10:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18734137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melissaeverdeen13/pseuds/melissaeverdeen13
Summary: Jackson and April can't get enough of each other, and everyone knows it. This is a look into their eventful sex life - the good, the bad, and the sandy.





	Sexcapades

**Author's Note:**

> This was a request that I got literally FOREVER ago!! It was so fun to write!! I've really been feeling one shots lately, so if you ever want to drop me a request, send me a message on tumblr (doctorkepner) or @ me on twitter (BANANAKENDRlCK) :)

> **2010**
> 
> **APRIL**

It’s not my first time at a party since being the University of Michigan, but it’s my first time going with Jackson. It’s an entirely new feeling, showing up with somebody - especially him. All my friends said I didn’t have a chance; he didn’t look twice at any girl who wasn’t in a sorority. I knew they said it for my own good - they didn’t want to see me hurt just as much as I didn’t want to  _ get _ hurt. But I told myself that I wasn’t just any girl. I’m April Kepner, involved in the Feminist Collective, Honors College Student Advisory Board, Tennis Club, and U Michigan College Democrats. I also volunteer with the Boys & Girls Clubs of Southeastern Michigan on the weekends - which, I think, is better than any sorority.

It wasn’t like I prattled off my resume to get Jackson to like me. I already had his attention; he used to hang around the booths outside the tennis courts all the time. I think it had something to do with his fraternity at first, but then he started showing up when nothing was set out. He blew his cover eventually, saying he only came to watch me play singles because I always won. 

I wore a tennis skirt and took my racquet on our first date. Luckily, we didn’t go anywhere fancy, only the smoothie shop that everyone on campus goes to. That was two months ago, and we’ve been exclusive ever since. Tonight is our first party together, thrown by his frat - Alpha Sigma Phi - and it’s easily the loudest house I’ve ever been in. 

“How do you hear yourself think in here?” I ask, raising my voice over the music as he hands me a drink. 

“You don’t,” he replies, laughing and showing all of his teeth. We’ve been having a good time tonight; both of us are happy. He’s so excited to introduce me to his ‘brothers,’ claiming I have no reason at all to be nervous. He can say that all he wants, though. It won’t make my nerves go away.

I take a big swig of whatever’s in the red cup, then practically spit it out. I had thought it was beer, but I was wrong. “What the hell is this?” I sputter. 

He laughs again, winding an arm around my shoulders. “Sloan’s homemade punch. Special recipe.”

“Of what?” I say, glancing inside the cup. “Literally all vodka?” 

“Pretty much,” he says. I covertly set the cup down, having no interest at all in getting shitfaced on something that doesn’t even taste good. “Hey - I see Warren and Deluca. Come on, let’s go say hi.”

I take a deep breath, begging myself not to talk a million miles per hour and look like a complete idiot. That’s what tends to happen when I get nervous - I lose all executive function. I start laughing too loud and too high, and it puts everyone off. Everyone except Jackson, that is, who finds it endearing. I still have no idea how.

As we make our way over to his friends, I glance at my reflection in a glass cabinet. I’m dressed entirely unlike myself, wearing black skinny jeans, a black bra, and a black long-sleeved mesh shirt on top. The shirt came from my roommate’s closet, but she insisted it looked ‘too fuckin’ sexy’ for me not to wear it. 

“What’s up, guys?” Jackson says loudly, giving them each a hug that I’ve seen him give others. It’s nothing like the way he hugs me; he pulls the guy in by the hand, then gives him a big clap on the back. I don’t know how they find it enjoyable. They do it so hard, it seems painful. 

“Hey, Avery! Finally, you’re here. People been asking about you.” 

“Who, people?” Jackson asks. 

“I don’t know, people. Alpha throws a party and people expect to see you, dude.”

“Well, we’re here now,” he says, slinging an arm around my waist to pull me closer. “This is April, by the way. My girlfriend.” 

“The girlfriend!” one of the guys says. 

“He literally never shuts the fuck up about you,” the other guys says. 

“Is that true?” I ask Jackson, batting my eyelashes. 

“Man, shut up,” he says. “Baby, this is Deluca and Warren.” He points to them as he says their names. “Or, uh… Andrew and Ben. Fuck, almost forgot your actual names.” 

“You never said anything about your girl being so fuckin’ hot,” Deluca says, eyeing me.

“Hey, fuck you,” Jackson says, smiling - but with an edge. “Watch your fuckin’ mouth.” 

“Ooh-ho!” both guys chorus, hands over their mouths as they make a big show out of their reaction. “We get it, Avery, you got the biggest dick here.” 

Jackson snorts with laughter, one arm still around me. I like it there; I like the firmness of his hand on my hip. “Fuck yeah, I do,” he says. “And don’t you fuckin’ forget it.” He pats my side and I lean into him, smiling politely at the guys. “Babe, there are some other people I want you to meet, too.” 

“Just a warning,  _ babe _ ,” Ben says. “Shepherd won’t play nice if you don’t plan on sharing that piece.” Jackson frowns and turns halfway, releasing my waist for a moment as he roughly shoves Ben back by the shoulders. So hard, that Ben has to take a few stutter steps so not to fall. “Jesus, man!” he exclaims. 

“Don’t you fuckin’ talk about her like that,” Jackson says, holding me again. “Ever. If I hear you talking shit again, I’m gonna knock all your fuckin’ teeth out.” 

“Alright, dude. God damn. It was just a joke.” 

“You’ve never been funny,” Jackson says, then turns to lead me through the crowd. “Sorry about that,” he says once we’re alone, standing at the foot of the steps. “They can be assholes. Especially when they’re drunk. I should’ve waited and introduced you when they weren’t acting like idiots.”

“It’s okay,” I say, one hand on his chest. Our relationship is new; there rarely comes a time we aren’t touching. “You’re such a potty-mouth around them. You turned into such an alpha male.” 

“Yeah…” he says, rubbing the back of his neck, head bowed. “Sorry about that. I just got mad.” 

“Don’t apologize,” I say slyly, curling my body against his. “I liked it.” 

“Yeah?” he says, eyebrows raised. His hand on my back sneaks lower and takes a firm hold on my ass. His fingers dig in and urge me closer as he smirks, fire in his eyes. “You wanna see more of that?”

“Uh-huh,” I say, leaving no space between us as his hand stays where it is. Mine snakes from his chest, down his torso, to the growing bulge in his jeans. I widen my fingers to get a handful of him, then meet his eyes while licking my lips. 

“We’ll have to be quick,” he says, twitching in my palm. 

“Let’s go, then.” 

Taking my hand, he pulls me down the hall. We have to work our way through throngs of people, but neither of us stop laughing as we weave in and out. Once someone emerges from the bathroom, Jackson darts in front of the next person waiting in line and yanks me inside, too. “Hey!” a guy says. “There’s a fuckin’ line, you asshole!” 

“Sorry!” Jackson says, locking the door. “Gotta go!” 

“Fuck you.” 

Then, he turns to me with hungry eyes and says, “Come here, baby.” 

I squeal when he grabs me around the waist and lifts me to rest atop the granite sink. “Wait, wait, wait,” I say, melting with his lips on my neck. “I gotta - get out - of these pants.” 

“Oh, you’re not wasting any time, are you?”

“None,” I say, holding his face with both hands. Then, I wrap my legs around him and urge him forward with my feet on the backs of his thighs; he quickly gets the hint. He shucks his pants off, belt clinking, and sinks inside me with both hands on my bare ass. “Oh, god,” I moan, throwing my head back as he thrusts. 

“God, you’re wet,” he says, speeding up. The sound of skin against skin fills the bathroom, and I press my lips together to keep from crying out. 

“Shit!” I shriek, when he scoops his hips higher. He pulls me closer, my arms draped over his shoulders, and lifts me off the counter. He turns around, hands under my thighs, and presses me against the wall. He pounds into me so hard that my eyes roll back, and it’s not long before he comes inside me. Luckily, we’re both clean and I’m on the pill. “Touch me,” I hiss, eyebrows furrowed. “I didn’t come yet.” 

“Oh baby, just wait,” he says, still inside me. He continues to move his hips along with his fingers, and soon, I’m seeing stars. I lose control over what sounds I make, and when I come, I don’t doubt the whole house knows. 

“Jesus Christ!” I sob, knees wobbling as he sets me down to stand on my own two feet again. 

He gives me a long, lasting kiss on the mouth before whispering, “Most people just call me Jackson.” 

> **2011**
> 
> **JACKSON**

“April’s gonna get wasted! April’s gonna get trashed!” Izzie sings.

“April is not!” April shouts back, playfully glowering at the group of friends we’ve accompanied to the western side of the state. Lexie’s family has a summer place here in St. Joseph, and we’ve been staying there for the past two nights, along with a handful of other rowdy college kids. It’s been great. So great, I don’t even mind the twin bed - mostly, because I’m sharing it with the hottest girl alive. 

Now, we’re at Jean Klock Park at sunset, a beach we haven’t yet explored. We’ve gone to Silver, which was overrun with tourists, Tiscornia and Lion’s, which were okay, but Jean Klock is the quietest of them all. We’ve spent so many hours in the sun over the past couple days that April’s skin is absolutely littered with freckles. I can’t get enough of her. 

“April knows she wants to…” Izzie, taunts, waving a Mike’s Hard in April’s direction. 

“Honestly, I’m good,” April says, laughing as she shoves the bottle away and leans back against my chest. I wrap my arms around her shoulders, cradling her close as she tips her head to look me in the eyes. “I’m not gonna make him play nurse again. Getting messy drunk two nights in a row is  _ not  _ cute.”

“Everything you do is cute,” I say, stealing a kiss on her ear. It makes her squeal; I knew it would. 

“You guys are fuckin’ gross,” Alex says, rolling his eyes as he cracks open a beer for Izzie. “Avery, Red turned your dick inside out and grew you a pussy.” 

“Shut up, Alex,” April says, rolling her eyes. “You wish.” 

“What’s that even mean?” he asks, eyebrows screwed up. April just laughs. 

“Who’s actually gonna go swimming with me?” Lexie asks, pulling her t-shirt over her head, then stepping out of her shorts. She ties her hair up and looks at everyone expectantly. “I didn’t take you guys here so we could drink in the sand. We can do that at home.” 

“Aren’t there like, fish?” Izzie asks. 

“Of course there’s fish, dummy,” Alex says with a smile before scooping his girlfriend up. “And I’m gonna feed you to ‘em.” 

“Hey!” Izzie shrieks, laughing as he carts her towards the water. “At least let me get my clothes off first!” 

“Applejacks?” Lexie says, eyebrows up. “You guys coming?” 

“Uh, no…” April says, capping her hands over my knees as she answers for us both. “We’ll hold down the fort.” 

“You don’t wanna swim?” I ask her. Usually, it’s hard to get her  _ out _ of the water. She shakes her head no. 

Once Lexie leaves, April turns around to rest on her knees in the sand, hands planted on my shoulders. “Know why I’m not going in?” she asks, keeping her voice low. 

“Huh,” I say, looking up as she presses her forehead to mine. In the low light, her eyes shine, but I can’t make out the color. She looks sexy as fuck.

“Feel,” she says, taking my wrists to lead them to her thighs. She skims my hands upward until I breech her skirt, then I tighten my grip around her waist. Her bare waist. “That’s why,” she says, giggling darkly. 

“You are so fuckin’ wild,” I say, fingers digging in. She’s been wearing this sundress all day; little did I know, there hasn’t been anything underneath it. 

“Maybe,” she says, pressing her torso to mine before glancing over her shoulder. “Think they’ll notice if we slip away for a sec?”

“I don’t care,” I say. “Let’s go.” 

We run barefoot through the sand until we find a relatively secluded spot full of tall beach grass, a good distance away from our friends who are shrieking and shouting in the water. I get April on her back and her skirt billows up instantly, baring her skin to the cool air. “I was waiting all day to tell you,” she says, arms around my neck. 

“You planned this?” I ask, fiddling with the button on my jeans before shoving the zipper down. I situate them around my knees - just low enough. 

“Kinda,” she says. “I knew you’d pretty much take the wheel once I told you…” She smirks and giggles. 

“You know me too well,” I say, then kiss her neck. She wraps her legs around me in the way I love and arches her back, and I grind my hips to flatten her again. 

“Ow! Shit,” she says, pulling one hand off of me. 

“What?” 

“Stick,” she says, yanking a branch from under her back. “This just stabbed me.” She throws it and it lands where we can’t see. “Okay. Come back.” 

I continue to kiss her, opening my mouth wide against hers and stealing the sounds she makes. I bury my fingers in her hair, coating it with sand, and listen to the grainy crunch that follows when she tilts her head back - giving me more room to lick her chest. I get sand in my teeth that I try to ignore, but I end up having to turn to the side and spit. 

“Jackson! Ew,” April says, recoiling with a funny grimace. “Don’t spit.” 

“I have sand,” I say, scraping my tongue with my fingernails. 

“Gross,” she says. 

“Don’t you have it all up in your teeth?” I ask, still trying to clear it out.

“Not really,” she says. “Maybe a little.”

“Jesus,” I say, spitting even as she groans. Then, I work on getting the straps of her sundress down her shoulders, kissing the freckled slopes of them before making my way to her braless chest. Her nipples are hard and her breasts rise as she lifts her chest against the wind - she can’t help but gasp with the way it feels. “You’re so gorgeous,” I tell her, licking a gentle circle around her areola before opening my mouth wider. 

“Mmm, god,” she murmurs, holding my head. I kiss a path from her breasts over the fabric of her bunched-up dress, down to the nakedness between her legs. She widens her thighs for me, peers over the grass towards the water, then relaxes again. “Okay,” she whispers urgently. I press a few kisses to her outer lips, separating them with two fingers before slipping my tongue inside her. “God, Jackson,” she whimpers, lifting her hips flush against my mouth. 

Then, I feel the tiny grains again - not only in my teeth, but between her legs as well. “Fuck,” I say, pulling away and attempting to wipe them off with my hand. It only makes it worse. 

“What are you doing?” she asks, bending her neck to investigate. “Why’d you stop?” 

“Fuckin’ sand,” I say, still trying to clean her off. 

“Jeez, Jackson, if it bothers you that much, just fuck me,” she hisses. 

“It’s not the sand in my mouth that’s the problem,” I say. “It’s all up in your-”

“What?” 

“There’s sand all up in your pussy!” I say quickly.

“God!” she says, pressing up onto her elbows. With one hand, she tries to do what I’d been doing - flushing it out. The problem is that our fingers are just as sandy as the area where we’re lying. “Okay. It doesn’t matter,” she says, pulling me closer. “My body will flush it out. That’s what bodies do. Can you just - ?” 

“Sure,” I say, wanting it as badly as she does. I’ve had a steady boner for the past few minutes, and I intend on using it. But when I lift onto my knees, I can’t help but notice that my dick is coated in sand. Even worse than she is. “Oh, fuckin’ shit,” I groan. 

“What?” 

I try to brush it off, but the stupid shit is everywhere. Like a disease. “Christ,” I mutter, eyes still plastered on my penis. 

“What!” 

“My fuckin’ dick’s a sand castle,” I grumble, still trying my best to clean it. 

“Red! Avery!” Alex shouts. Splashing sounds follow, which lets us know they’re getting out of the water. “The crabs are gonna give you crabs! Stop fuckin’ in the damn weeds and get back here, we’re leaving!” 

> **2012**
> 
> **APRIL**

My jaw has been clenched for so long that by the time we walk into Jackson’s apartment, the hinges are sore. I’ve been holding in my thoughts in the spirit of not ruining the night for he and his friends, but I can’t anymore. We’re home now. He’s about to get an earful. 

“Babe, you wanna share this chocolate? There’s like, two bites left.” 

I close my eyes for a long moment while prying off my high heels. I had dressed up for the night and we ended up at Good Time Charley’s. Needless to say, I was the only person there wearing a little black dress. “No,” I say tersely. 

“Hmm, more for me then,” he says, mouth already full.

“Funny,  _ now _ you ask what I want,” I mutter under my breath, leaning against the wall while taking off my other shoe. Once it’s hanging by the toe, I kick it off to hit the closet door. 

“Jesus, Beckham,” he says. “You’re gonna put a dent in that thing. What’re you talking about, anyway? I thought you had a nice night.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” I say, feeling my cheeks flush. “You’re seriously… do you seriously think that?”

“Um… yeah?” He chews slowly with wide eyes like he has no idea what he stepped into, though he really should. 

“Tonight  _ sucked _ , Jackson. And you didn’t give a shit that it sucked.”

“I thought we had a good time,” he says, setting the chocolate down.

“I didn’t!” I say, hands flat on the countertop. “I really didn’t!”

“Wait, hold up,” he says, screwing up his face into a frown. “Why didn’t you say something?” 

“What was I gonna say?” I ask. “You’d been looking forward to taking me out with the guys. They already hate me as it is. They think I’m some shrill bitch who’s always on your case. I’m not gonna make things worse for myself.” 

“Oh, come on, April,” he says. “They don’t think that.” 

“I’ve literally heard them say those exact words,” I say, deadpan. “They must think I’m deaf, or something. I know they don’t like me. And I know you were trying tonight, but-” 

“Then why are you on my ass?” he says, voice raising a little. “I was trying!” 

“You should’ve tried harder,” I say, taking off my earrings one-by-one. 

“Like how?” he says, shaking his head. His eyes have grown wilder. 

“Like not letting them choose the fucking restaurant!” I retort. “Do you think I would’ve worn this had I known we were going to goddamn Good Time Charley’s?” 

“You like the beer there,” he says. “And the cheese sticks. You’ve said-” 

“When it’s me and you, in shit clothes, doing nothing on a weeknight!” I say. “This was supposed to be special. A nice dinner out with your friends you hadn’t seen in a while. I dressed up for a reason, and it made me look like a tool. They knew, too. I saw them laughing.” 

“They weren’t laughing at you.” 

“Oh, they were laughing  _ with _ me, yeah,” I say, rolling my eyes. “I don’t wanna go out with them again. Actually, I won’t.” 

“You won’t?” he repeats, sounding incredulous.

“No, I won’t,” I say. 

“So, as usual, you’re gonna make the rules without asking for any input from me,” he says. 

“In this case, yeah,” I say, setting my necklace next to my earrings. “You helped them make me look like an idiot tonight. You know how much I hate that. You know I was bullied when I was a-” 

“Please, god, April, don’t pull the ‘poor-me’ card from elementary school.”

“Seriously?!” 

“Yeah, seriously.”

“Maybe, if you’re so annoyed, you’d rather go back out with them,” I say, contradicting my words by stepping closer to him. “I’m sure they’re at some other bar. Just text them, Jackson. Maybe they’re still sober enough to come get you.” 

“Jesus,” he groans, keeping heavy eye contact. “No. It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?” 

“I don’t know! You’re pissing me off, though! Tonight was supposed to be fun, and you were set on making it awful. Your face isn’t hard to read. At all. We all knew you were having a shit time, because you wanted us to know. Could you not just have gone along for one night? You couldn’t just grin and bear it?” 

“The whole place smelled like smoke. My hair reeks. And Deluca’s gut was hanging out the entire night! How am I supposed to grin and bear that?”

“Just something, for once in your life!” he bellows, then the wire snaps between us. We’re inches apart, tension cracked, and suddenly there’s no space between us at all. His lips are on mine, his hands roam my entire body, as mine do for him. Our breath is the only sound in the room, heavy through our mouths as they part for mere seconds. Expertly, he unzips my dress and shoves it to the floor, then I turn around with my fingers spread wide over the countertop - the place where I’ve made him countless breakfasts and he’s made me countless ice cream sundaes. My ass has definitely been up here a few times, too, but not tonight. 

Tonight, he slams into me from behind - hard, sure, and aggressive. We don’t speak because we don’t need to. I arch my back and he presses a flat hand to the curve of it, overtaking my body with his own and pressing my chest against the cool stone. I lay my head down, too, until he grabs a handful of my hair and yanks it back up, which makes sparks jolt to my core and push me closer to orgasm. 

I shove back against him, letting out long, hard exhales as I toe the edge. When he lets go of my hair and wraps both hands around my waist, assisting the back and forth motion, I’m a goner. My knees weaken as my muscles clench around him, and I press all of my weight forward onto my palms. My breath stops for a long moment as I tremble, waiting for him to come, too - and when he does, it’s powerful. He covers my back with his chest and kisses the side of my neck, making chills run down my spine that hadn’t left from my orgasm. 

I’m not over being mad, though. This was a Band-Aid at best. So, I stand up straight and gather my clothes. Without looking back, I say, “I’m going to bed.” 

> **2012**
> 
> **JACKSON**

April and I rarely go to bed pissed. When we do, though, I don’t sleep right. Like tonight, I’m on my back without her little, warm body in my arms. She’s lying on her side, facing the window, on her assumed side of the bed. Usually, I playfully complain about getting no space to myself. But when I actually get that space, it’s a slap to the face. Actually, a slap might be better. At least I could get it over with. 

I know why April’s mad. I felt her irritation all night, but when I get around my friends I turn stupid. We’ve been out of college for a year, but Warren and Deluca turn me into the idiot I was as a freshman, before I met April. When the three of us are together, everything is about the boys. I didn’t include April because she asked me to; actually, she probably would’ve preferred staying home. I wanted her to be a good influence on the guys. I wanted them to see how well I’m doing; maybe it’d give them a push to do the same. Not like April is my trophy girlfriend or anything, but I’m proud of her. I’m proud of our relationship. I like showing it off.

All of it bit me in the ass, though. The first mistake was letting them choose the restaurant. April hates feeling overdressed or underdressed, so that was the first source of her discomfort. They totally pointed it out, too, while also making underhanded comments about her tits that I quickly dispelled. I can take a joke, but not one like that. They aren’t allowed to objectify my girlfriend, or any woman. I’ve always checked them for it. Deep down, I know they’re good guys who act like assholes. They’re not actually assholes. April doesn’t seem to agree with me on that.

She can be controlling and anal, traits that get on my nerves sometimes, but I love the shit out of her. And when you love the shit out of someone, you look past their not-so-great qualities because the amazing qualities shine brighter. It just so happened that tonight was not our night. I need to apologize. When she wakes up, I will. 

Morning comes so fucking slow. April doesn’t stir all night - doesn’t even move. At one point, I even slipped a finger under her nose to make sure she was breathing… she was. When the first light comes through the window, she inhales deeply and rolls over without opening her eyes, sleepily seeking me out. This is what I’ve been hoping for. God, I missed her so fucking much. When she presses herself against me, winding an arm around my stomach and tucking her face into my neck, everything falls back into place. I feel like me again. This feels like us. 

She makes a small sound in the back of her throat and nestles closer, throwing one leg over both of mine. I smile to myself. She’s so fucking cuddly - during the hot months, I can barely take it. I still let her do it, though. Because it’s her. And I’d chew glass for her.

“Baby,” I say, using the hand connected to the arm that’s under her to stroke her shoulder. 

“Hmm…” she hums. 

“You awake?” 

“Kinda, a little bit...” 

I pet her hair and kiss her forehead, letting my lips linger. She allows it, which lets me know we’re in a better place. “I’m sorry about last night,” I say, speaking against her forehead. “I should’ve taken control of the situation… not let the guys be such dicks. Or…” I laugh. “Just let you stay home. But I’m sorry it was shitty, and I didn’t do anything to fix it.” 

She blinks her eyes open halfway. “Thank you,” she says, eyelashes tickling my bare skin. “And I’m sorry, too… for acting like a bitch. I’m always a bitch to them. I’m sorry. They just bring out the worst in me.”

“How about I keep these two parts of my life separate from now on?” I say, smiling. 

“That honestly sounds great,” she says, then pushes herself up to straddle my torso. She rests her fingertips gently on my cheeks and kisses me slow; I feel her warm center pressed right up against where I want it - and my morning wood is impossible to ignore. “I love you,” she says, stripping off her shirt. She pulls my boxers down and shifts her underwear to the side, then sinks onto me. 

“Mmm, fuck,” I moan, hands planted on her thighs. “I love you, too.”

She grinds on me slow, working her hips in a perfect rhythm, and I can’t decide where to put my eyes. On hers, or the place where we’re joined. Both are equally tempting. I end up switching between both spots until she leans forward, covering as much of me as she can, and kisses me hard. 

“Kinda funny,” she says against my lips. “We tend to have sex before, during,  _ and _ after we fight.” 

> **2013**
> 
> **APRIL**

It got old, switching between mine and Jackson’s apartments every other night. His place was a poor excuse for a bachelor pad and he claimed mine was too small, so we decided to start fresh someplace completely new. When we step into the one-bedroom apartment on the third floor, even though it’s completely empty and unfurnished, there’s something about it that simply feels like it belongs to us.

“Welcome home,” Jackson says, one arm around my shoulders as he plants a kiss on my temple. 

I look up at him, eyes shining. “Welcome home, baby,” I say, then shake the pizza box I’m holding. “I’m starving. Can we eat?” 

He looks around wearing a comical expression. “Uh…” he says. “No table.” 

I plop down in the middle of the room, legs crossed. “Nature’s table,” I say, setting the pizza box in front of me before flipping open the lid. “Sit down, priss.” 

“Alright with the name-calling,” he says, snorting with laughter as he joins me. 

As we eat, we talk about what we want to do with the place. “I think we should paint the kitchen blue,” I say, able to see it from where I’m sitting. “Blue is a good color for a kitchen.” 

“Blue is a bathroom color,” he says, mouth full.

“Nuh-uh!” I say. “My childhood kitchen was blue.” 

“Sorry to break it to you, babe,” he says. “But you ate your meals in a bathroom.” 

“You’re so dumb,” I say, laughing as I chew the last bit of my crust. “The bathroom should be yellow.”

He sighs contentedly, lying down with his hands behind his head. “It’s up to you, boss woman,” he says, closing his eyes. “I really don’t care about paint.” 

“No?” 

“Nah.” 

“What  _ do _ you care about?” 

He opens his eyes and shoots me a grin. At this angle, he has about four chins and I love it. “Your hot ass,” he says, wiggling his fingers in my direction. “Come here, beautiful.” 

I crawl over and fold my hands on his chest, resting my chin on them soon after. Now, we’re only centimeters away from each other and I’m looking directly into his aquamarine eyes. “I’m here,” I say. “Now what?” 

“Now…” he says, sitting up a little. “I’m gonna kiss you. Then, we’re gonna christen our new house.”

“There’s no bed,” I say, turning onto my back as he hovers over me. 

He kisses my lips, holding one side of my face as he says, “Nature’s bed.” Then, he laughs and copies my insult from earlier. “Priss.”

It doesn’t take long for us to get naked; it never does. Luckily, the hardwood is smooth under my back as he drives into me - hard, staking his claim, though he doesn’t need to. We both already know I’m his and he’s mine forever. But still, it’s nice to be reminded. 

“Oh, god, baby… that feels so good,” I moan - loudly, too. There are no roommates to worry about. It’s just us. We can do whatever we want here. 

“How good?” he grunts, wearing a concentrated expression.

“Amazing,” I whimper, bracing my hands on his shoulders. “Ugh. Harder. Go harder, baby.” 

“Fuck,” he breathes, moving his hips so forcefully that my back scoots up the floor - squeaking against it because of how sweaty I am. “Whose pussy is it, babe? Tell me who this pussy belongs to.” 

“You,” I moan, throwing my arms over my head while taking a deep inhale. “Oh, it’s yours, baby. Take it.” 

“Fuck yeah,” he groans, burying his face in my neck.

My long, drawn-out cries match the rhythm of his hips, and I cling to him when he comes. It lasts for a while, all my limbs wrapped around him, and as soon as it’s over, he pulls out and licks his way down my body to rest between my legs. “Shit, Jackson,” I whisper, taking a firm fistful of his curls. 

“I fuckin’ love this pussy,” he says, trapped in between my thighs. “Mmm. You’re so fuckin’ sexy, baby.” 

“Yeah?” I moan. 

“Yeah,” he replies, delving his tongue deep inside me. “Oh, yeah.” 

When he teases an orgasm out of me, I clench his head as tightly as I can and let everything loose. By the time it’s over, my voice is sore and my whole body is slick with sweat, but I don’t care. I haven’t felt this great in a long time. 

Then comes a banging sound from below, hammering insistently on our floor - someone else’s ceiling. “Hey!” a loud voice calls. “Keep it down up there! Everyone can hear you!” 

Naked on the hardwood, Jackson and I look to each other with wide eyes - then crack up laughing. “Guess we met our neighbors,” he says, then pulls me even closer.

> **2014**
> 
> **APRIL**

We decide to have a New Year’s celebration at our place, and it started getting out of hand about three hours ago. When I let loose and stopped playing hostess, which meant downing more vodka cranberries than I can remember, Jackson loosened up, too. Alcohol probably had a hand in his attitude just like it did mine. 

“Anyone ever tell you you’re so goddamn sexy?” he slurs, yanking me closer as I straddle his lap. 

“No,” I say, giggling into his neck. “No one, ever.”

“Well… they needa start,” he says, planting two hands on my ass with his fingers spread wide. “God damn! This ass. This ass should be illegal.”

“ _ This _ shit should be illegal,” Alex says. “How come I always gotta deal with these horndogs? I’m sick of it. I’m real fuckin’ sick of it!” 

“It’s our house,” I say, leaning over towards Alex. Jackson keeps his hands where they are.

“Which means I can leave whenever I want, thank god,” he says, getting up from the couch. “Your breath smells like a distillery, Red.” 

“Big word,” I say, bending back to look at him upside-down. “Aw, come on, Ally. Don’t leave.” 

“Don’t call me that shit.”

I laugh, facing Jackson again. “He’s such a spoil-sport,” I mutter, then kiss my boyfriend with wild passion. He massages my ass with surprising strength for how drunk he is, and I start grinding my hips. He doesn’t get hard, though, probably because we’re in the company of so many others. “Come on, babe,” I say, getting to my feet before grabbing his hand. “Let’s go to our room real quick.” 

“You’re not being sneaky,” Izzie calls after us. “Everyone knows where you’re going and why.” 

“Be back!” I call, tripping over my own feet. 

Jackson laughs loudly, catching me before I can fall. “Fuck,” he giggles, stumbling on the stairs. 

It’s a wonder how we make it to our bedroom. We bought this house not long ago, and stairs are complicated when we’re this drunk. We typically don’t get wasted, but we made an exception for New Year’s.

We both topple onto the bed and do our best at undressing, but it happens clumsily and disjointedly. I can’t get my bra off, so I stop trying eventually, and Jackson keeps his socks, which he normally never does. I lay on my back and wait for him, but he’s doing something peculiar at the foot of the bed. “What’re you…?” I ask, squinting through the darkness. Suddenly, I feel like I could sleep for years. I can barely keep my eyes open.

They’re open enough to see the familiar jerking motion of his arm, though. “Hold on. It’s just…”

“Oh…” I groan, rubbing my eyes and surely ruining my makeup. My head pounds. The room spins. I might throw up.

“It’s not you!” he assures me, his voice rising in pitch. “I swear to fuck, it’s not… baby, you’re so fuckin’ sexy… I wanna fuck you so bad right now, but it…” 

I have no idea if he ends up getting it up or not, but my guess would be the latter. I fall asleep too quickly to notice. I wake up in 2015 with a searing pain behind my eyes and Jackson, naked save for his socks, strewn across my legs. 

> **2018**
> 
> **JACKSON**

For some reason, I’m nervous.

I’ve been with April for the better part of eight years, and we’ve been married for almost two. We’ve had sex more times than I can count, though I’ve tried. But right now, as I’m in the bathroom brushing my teeth and she’s waiting for me in bed, my stomach won’t settle.

This feels more sanctimonious than any of the other times we’ve done it. And we’ve done it  _ a lot _ . Sex is a hallmark of our relationship; it brings us back together when we drift, it makes us laugh, sometimes it makes her cry. In a good way, of course. I know her best through her body, and she knows mine like a map she drew herself. 

So, when I see her lying there without clothes, in a state I’ve seen so frequently over the years, why does my mouth go dry?

“You ready, baby?” she asks, placing her book on the nightstand, next to her reading glasses.

“Yeah…” I say, but even I hear the lack of conviction in my voice. 

Her eyebrows furrow. “You sure?” she asks. 

“Yeah,” I say, walking over while stripping off my shirt. “Just kinda…” I sigh. “I don’t know.” 

She half-smiles and makes a sound in her throat, a tiny laugh. “I feel weird, too,” she says, voicing what I was scared to say out loud. “Well, not weird. But almost, like… scared.”

“I know,” I say, sitting on the bed with her. She doesn’t even attempt to cover up, which I love. In fact, she laces her fingers together behind her head and lets out a long sigh. “I just wanna do it right.” 

“I don’t think there’s a wrong way,” she says, a gleam in her eye. “I mean, we’re plenty good at it by now.” 

“Why, thank you.”

She kicks me gently and we laugh. “But nothing’s different, if you think about it. I just stopped taking the pill, that’s all.”

“Except  _ everything _ is different,” I say. 

“Well, yeah. That.” She smiles. “But the same motions, I mean. Don’t overthink.” 

“Wait, did I hear you right?” I ask. “Did April Avery, the queen of overthinking, just tell  _ me _ not to overthink?” 

“Be quiet,” she says, suppressing a grin. “Will you come here?” 

It takes a moment for us to find our groove, but once we do, it’s clear it was there all along. I meet her eyes as I reach the edge, and she gives me a miniscule nod as her fingertips dig into my shoulders. With a connection as strong as the one we have, there’s no way it didn’t work. 

> **2019**
> 
> **APRIL**

“Room for one more?” 

“There’s already three in here,” I say as Jackson steps inside the shower with me. 

He dips his head under the jet, then frames my pregnant belly with both hands. “Well, two aren’t born yet,” he says. “Not saying they don’t count. You do. Both of you.” He presses a kiss to the swell of my stomach, the part that juts out so I can’t see my feet. 

We’re having twins - fraternal, due in three months. A boy and a girl - with names yet to be determined. It wasn’t easy, getting pregnant, but once it took, it really took. We got double trouble. 

“There’s barely room enough for me,” I say, trying to join him under the water. “What makes you think you can just waltz in here?”

“How could I resist?” he asks, wrapping his arms around me from behind. He kisses the top of my shoulder and then the side of my neck. “I got lonely without you.” 

“It was ten minutes.” 

“I’m conserving water. Weren’t you just telling me all that stuff we could do to save the earth?”

“I think you came in here to get some action,” I say, reaching to touch the side of his head. 

“Who, me?” he says, then kisses my ear. “But that’s so unlike me.” 

“You’re a horrible liar.” 

He turns me around and frames my face, kissing me slow while trying to get closer. It doesn’t work too well, though, with my balloon of a belly in the way. “Hold on,” he says, trying to adjust the way he’s standing. There’s no way around it, though. The babies have made their presence very clear, as always.

“Can’t lift me up and have your way with me anymore,” I say, tipping my head to the side. 

“My heart might actually be broken,” he says. 

“Here,” I say, turning around. I lift a foot onto the lip of the tub and bend over, catching his eye once I do. “There’s always a way.” 

His shoulders deflate with relief and he kisses the small of my back. “Oh, thank god,” he says, and by the look in his eyes I know neither of us will get clean in this shower. 

> **2024**
> 
> **JACKSON**

“What time is it?” 

“Um… 4:17. What time does the party get over?” 

“4,” April says, peering over the back of the couch and out the front window. “But it’s a little bit of a drive. We have a few minutes, if you’d hurry!” 

“Jeez, okay, bossy,” I say, smirking. 

“You married bossy,” she says, shimmying out of her pants. “You gotta know that by now.” 

“Fortunately, yes,” I say, kissing her. “I do.” I hitch her hips up and sink inside her easily, relishing the familiar tightness. She closes her knees in on me and holds the sides of my neck, giving me a small kiss before asking, “You ever get tired of missionary?” 

“While getting to look at this face? Never,” I say, kissing her wherever I can reach. Her cheeks, her nose, her forehead, her chin. She giggles in response, high and musical. I knew she would. 

“Good,” she says, stroking my beard as I pump my hips. “‘Cause I like looking at yours, too. Most of the time.”

“Helps if it’s dark,” I say, smirking. 

“True.” 

“Ouch.” 

I edge her, even though we really don’t have time. I like to torture her now and again; let her know that she’s completely at my mercy when I want her to be. On the other hand, I know I’m  _ always _ at her mercy. That’s just the way we work. 

“I gotta get there,” she finally says, as I’m drawing lazy circles over her clit. “Jackson. Please.”

“Mm-hmm,” I say, searing our lips together as I ramp her up to an orgasm. I build her up, but she tips herself over, shaking as she does. She writhes, back bending, turning onto her side as it ripples through her, and I have mine from seeing what I did to her. 

Just as I’m about to collapse and have her play with my hair, we hear the sound of the front door coming open. “Shit,” April says, scrambling to pull her pants up. Luckily, neither of our shirts had come off in the process.

I tuck myself into my pants and zip them, jumping a few times to get things to lay right. April messes with her hair, but it’s long past the point of fixing. When Izzie and Alex walk through that door, the looks on their faces say it all - they know. 

“Oh, sweet Christ,” Alex murmurs. 

“Hey, guys!” I say, kneeling down with outstretched arms, ready to welcome our five-year-old twins back home. “How was the party?” 

“Fun, fun, fun, fun, fun, fun!” Miles says, in a voice that sounds just like his mom’s when she’s excited. “I got so much in my goody bag! Wanna see?” 

“I got even more!” Maeve says. “Mama, look. Mama, lookie!”

“I see,” April says, then glances sheepishly at our friends. “Thanks for bringing them home,” she says. 

“Of course,” Izzie says. “They’re angels.”

“Yeah. And thanks for keeping it in your pants,” Alex says. “Oh, wait. Just kidding.” 

“What’s in your pants, mama?” Maeve asks, reaching for April’s pocket and yanking on it. “Can I see?” 

“No, no!” April says, gently pushing her away.

“Never have been able to, never will!” Alex calls as they head out.

Before I can help myself, I respond with, “Damn straight!” 

It’s worth the swat on the arm that April gives me. 


End file.
